


Stiles' Life Use to Be Normal

by Lunarflare14



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, First Kiss, Kidnapping, M/M, Not A Very Good Pack Mother, Oblivious Stiles, Pack Dynamics, Protective Castiel, Protective Derek, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 15:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarflare14/pseuds/Lunarflare14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What am I going to say? Sorry, I was just making sure you weren't out to kill my friends and accidentally stole your top secret diary?! BTW I think Angelo is hot too. BFFs 5ever?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles' Life Use to Be Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in the ask box of puppetere on tumblr.
> 
> I don't remember why other than that puppetere is awesome.
> 
> Warning for a tiny bit of abuse of all caps words and Derek being a bit of a brooding teenage girl sometimes. I prefer the term "emotionally constipated" because I was once a teenage girl and even I was better at expressing myself.

Stiles walked behind Derek as they made their way down the motel hall. Word was there were new hunters in town-- jack of all trades hunters. They were big news according to Allison. Their father had been a longtime friend of her father. Lots of revenge was dealt. They got to the room she said the hunters were staying in and Derek picked the old-school lock. The door opened and WHOA did it reek of testosterone. "Five minutes. Not risking it." Derek growled.

Stiles nodded and went to work leafing through some printouts on the table. There was nothing you couldn't find from a quick Google search. Most of it was B.S. and some chicken scratch handwriting in the margins of the pages said as much. What was more accurate were some news articles relating to disappearances and strange occurrences in the area-- all of which Stiles knew to be linked to the Peter Hale. The handwriting mused it was the Alpha of a pack. Obviously they didn’t know Peter had been corpsified.

That’s when he spotted a brown notebook lying on one of the beds, all unassuming and boring. He grabbed it, riffling through a couple pages. "Oh shit." Derek turned from looking through a bag on the other bed. "Dude, these guys are more than legit! They fight all kinds of supernatural shit." Stiles phone buzzed. Scott had been on look-out duty and that was the signal. "We gotta move." Derek didn't need telling twice. He grabbed Stiles by the collar and hauled him out of the room, locking the door behind them.

They had only just made it around the corner at the end of the hall when Stiles heard voices. "... think Chris isn't telling us everything, Dean." 

"You don't think I know that? Something ain't right about this. I-" The second voice stopped for a moment and Stiles breath sped up in panic. Derek clapped a hand over Stiles mouth. "Son of a bitch. Someone's been in the room, and I bet you a slice of pie it wasn't room service." 

“You did the old stick in the door thing?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Guess your paranoia paid off.”

When the door shut, they both bolted down the hall to the exit.

Once Stiles and Derek were safely in his Jeep, Stiles looked down at his hands still clutching the book. "I'm going to be hunted by hunters. _Hunted_. Oh God, couldn't give me one more second-- I just needed to drop the book. Maybe they won't notice-- no, I bet they're paranoid bastards; they'll know, oh shit I'm-"

Derek grabbed Stiles by the collar and yanked him forward. "Shut up and drive," Derek hissed through gritted teeth. 

Stiles yanked back. "And I'm driving." Derek settled back into his seat

Derek made a face at the book as it sat between them. Stiles caught the look and frowned. "What?"

The werewolf made a rumbling noise in the back of his throat—seriously, was he always growling? "It smells."

Stile snorted. "Like what?" Derek shrugged. "So articulate. Really, you should write poetry. It's like you're all tall, dark, and eloquent-"

"Stop talking."

"But seriously, it smells?" Derek nodded. "We're almost to Scott's, and you won't have to sit with the rank book anymore. Okay?"

When they pulled up to Scott's house, the other teen was already waiting there in the living room.

"Did you find anything— whoa what is that smell?"

Stiles frowned. "Seriously, you too?"

Scott's nose wrinkled. "It smells like death and sulfur and... pie?"

Stiles smelled the notebook, making a mock contemplative face. "S'fine . Must be a werewolf thing." Derek didn't look amused. Stiles frowned. Lame as his jokes were, Derek could at least laugh at how lame they were. "So, what now?"

Derek huffed.

"Lay low I guess. All that stuff they were looking up was about Peter and he's dead."

Stiles gestured to the book. "So how do I give this back without getting shot?" Derek shrugged. "What am I going to say? Sorry, I was just making sure you weren't out to kill my friends and accidentally stole your top secret diary?! BTW I think Angelo is hot too. BFFs 5EVER?"

Scott grabbed it and flipped through the pages of the book. Derek seemed to be processing Stiles last rant. Yeah, okay he had called the pack his friends… they were friends, right? Derek had said he was important.

"Relax. How are they even going to know it was you?"

Stiles thought about it. "True. But with my luck? They'll know."

Scott stopped leafing through the journal, reading. "They've encountered werewolves before but says here they only transform when they're asleep." Scott shrugged. "Apparently, these guys haven't seen anything like us. Say we're 'a purer strand of werewolf' or something."

Derek snatched from Scott and read the page.

Derek smirked at the page. "One of the traits listed is 'badassery'."

He handed the book back to Stiles with a rare grin. Stiles smiled back and held his gaze. They _were_ friends… Sort of. The journal was in Stiles hands for less than a second when a man in a long coat appeared out of nowhere.

Stiles didn't even have time to scream before he vanished.

Scott and Derek stared at the empty space Stiles use to inhabit in disbelief. Derek sniffed the air, and without warning snarled. Scott's eyes went wide as Derek ran out of his house. "What the hell just happened?"

* * *

 

Stiles cowered against the ugly wallpaper of the motel room as the trench coat man stood between him and two angry large angry hunters.

"I retrieved the boy in possession of John's journal." Trench coat guy sounded like he could use some Ricola. The short one lowered his gun.

The tall one groaned. "Shit dude, we were robbed by a middle-schooler."

Stiles frowned. "Hey! I am not a mid—"

The trench coat man turned to him. "It would be best if you remained quiet until addressed."

 "Yes, sir." Stiles mumbled quickly because he’s pretty sure trench coat guy just teleported and HOLY SHIT _teleportation_?

The short one came forward. "Give me a reason I should let you live."

"I'm the sheriff's kid, so it would be... bad if I wasn't alive?"

The taller one cursed. "Sheriff Stilinski? Dean, that guy already hates us."

Dean turned to the other hunter to glare at him.

"Alright, you got me." Stiles put up his hands up. "I heard you guys were asking around about werewolves— I'm friends with Allison Argent and I'm big into researching the stuff. I didn't mean to take the book." The hunters looked to trench coat guy.

"Well, Cas, is he lying?"

"No, he is telling the truth. But..." Cas, as Dean had dubbed trench coat guy, stepped forward. "But that isn't everything." Cas stared at Stiles in this really creepy not blinking way, getting really close to his face.

"Whoa, a little breathing room?" Cas stepped back but didn't stop his staring.

"He wasn't alone. He had help breaking in."

Stiles eyes went wide. "I never said that— did I say that? That is not true." Cas face moved for the first time, frowning deeply.

Dean glared some more. “You can't hide the truth from, Cas. Who were you with?"

Stiles shook his head. "I was alone. I freaked when I heard you guys coming—"

But Cas' eyes went wide and he cut them off. "He was with the werewolf."

Now the hunters had both their sights on him. Stiles groaned. "Why do you keep saying stuff like that?"

"I can read your mind. Dean was not exaggerating when he said you cannot hide the truth."

Stiles gaped. "That's cheating!" Teleportation and mind-reading? Seriously, could his life get any weirder?

The taller one shrugged. "His kind doesn't play fair."

Dean glared at the other hunter. "Shut up, Sam." Well, at least Stiles had a name for him too now and not just really tall guy. Seriously, the dude was a giant.

"What do you mean his kind?"

"None of your god damn—"

Cas interrupted Dean. "I am an angel of the lord."

Yeah, right.

"Yeah, right."

Dean ran a hand over his face. "Look, these werewolf friends of your’s—"

"I don't know any werewolves. It sounds like a dangerous group to associate with."

"But you research them?"

"As a hobby." He shrugged.

Dean crowded him, pinning him to the wall with his forearm. "I am tired of your sass. You will answer me and stop dicking around. What's their end game?"

Stiles just raised his chin. No way was he telling them anything.

"You think you are protecting them," Cas said evenly. "But they are dangerous."

Stiles directed a loud SHUT UP YOU DON'T KNOW THEM thought at Cas. Something akin to fury rose behind those bright blue eyes and the lights around them flicker violently. Stiles gulped. Oh shit.

"I am older and more powerful than your sporadic, feeble mind could imagine. You will show me respect."

Stiles nodded. No more mouthing off to the—whatever this guy was.

"I am an angel. My name is Castiel."

Stiles stared at him. "Angels aren't real."

Dean laughed. "We wish." Castiel frowned at him and Dean winced. "Well, most of them we wish weren’t real. Cas is cool." Cas seemed content with that answer. "So, gonna spill on long and toothy, or what?"

"Gonna go with 'or what' for 200, Alex."

Sam snorted. "I like him."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk."

"You said it." Dean pulled Stiles forward and thumped him back against the wall. "Ow. I don't think I deserved that."

Sam came forward. "Alright, let's all just be adults and stop threatening the kid with violence."

"Yeah, stop threatening me with violence."

Dean went to pull him forward when Sam put a hand on Dean's shoulder. The two exchanged a look— which apparently was some kind of hunter language, because Dean let go of Stiles completely, though he didn't back away.

"Alright." Sam seemed to be taking over the questioning. So, it was good cop/bad cop? "What did your research say about these werewolves?"

Stiles wonder if he should answer it— since it was obviously a ploy to get him to talk. "They just want to be left alone. From what I've been able to tell, they're under some kind of new management."

 Sam nodded. "Do they... hurt anyone?" Stiles shook his head. Not completely true, but not completely false either. They didn’t want to hurt people. They looked to Cas, who nodded— he probably could see the big picture through Stiles mind. Oh good, finally they were listening. This might work.

Of course that was the moment that Derek chose to smash down the door and let out the scariest roar ever Stiles had ever heard. Castiel was suddenly between them and Derek, and the scariest shadow wings filled the room as the lights flickered. After a few seconds, they both just stopped. Castiel's head tilted. Derek mimed it. He backed up but only a pace or two, the wolf side under control again. Stiles was still staring at Cas because WINGS.

Definitely _wings_.

Cas turned back to them, his face serious. "It's alright."

"No, Cas. That was not alright." Dean growled. Derek was still just kind of standing there and it hit Stiles that Derek was there— had come in, guns blazing, to RESCUE HIM.

Cas just frowned at Dean. "He was just trying to protect his..." Cas didn't seem to know what word he was looking for. But he's looking from Stiles to Dean in a way that seems to imply something. "I was just... doing the same. The animal side understood." Derek was staring at the floor like a scolded pup.

DEREK THE ALPHA.

Dean stared at Cas a little longer. Then nodded. "I think I get it now. The Argents said a family of werewolves had their house burned down. Didn't say anyone survived though. That was your family wasn't it?" Derek didn't look up. "My mom died in a fire... well it’s a bit more complicated than that but its close enough. So I get it. The Argents also said you were building a pack to make you stronger." Derek looked up then, glaring a hole in the hunter.

Sam's face lit with understanding and saddened. "You're not building a pack. You're building a family."

Derek stared back at the floor with a look of almost embarrassment. Stiles had never thought that was what Derek was doing. Dean's face turned sour. "And they wanted us to hunt you anyway." Derek acted like he couldn’t hear. "Take the kid and go. I don’t like being fed bad info from people I should trust, but if they were right and you hurt so much as a hair on an innocent head, I will turn my car right back around and kick your ass."

Stiles was able to breathe again. Derek looked to Castiel. Cas nodded and Derek went over to Stiles. With one last glare at Dean, he took Stiles' arm and walked out the door. Surprisingly, Derek was almost gentle about it. Stiles went without protest.

Once outside, Stiles smacked a hand to his face. "Seriously? You didn't bring a car?" Derek shrugged. "Great, looks like we're walking back." Stiles started down the road but Derek grabbed his arm. "What?"

Derek leaned in a little and just... breathed. "You alright?" Derek whispered, catching Stiles off guard.

Stiles blushed and scratched his neck. "Sure, I'm fine. No harm done."

Derek's nose twitched. "That guy in the coat was... he smelled strange."

"He's an angel."

Derek frowned, then looked to be remember the wing display and looked horrified.

"Yeah, next stop hell.”

"Angels don't—"

"Yeah well I said the same thing about werewolves and look what my life has become; kidnapped by a hunter’s pet angel because I stole their precious diary."

Derek sighed. "I shouldn't have let them take you."

"There was literally no time, for you to stop him. He can TELEPORT and-" Stiles stopped. "Derek... Do you think of me as part of your pack?" Derek stopped walking. "Der—" When he turned Derek was blushing. Stiles couldn't even process that. It was like his entire brain just went CAN'T.

"I mean, it's no biggy. You just seemed kind of upset, you know, wolfing out on an enemy that could probably blink and make you not exist anymore— okay I'm shutting up now, forget I asked. Why didn't Scott run after you anyway? He's supposed to be my friend— am I still talking? Seriously shutting up now—"

Derek grabbed his arm. "You're important." Derek said it like it hurt and Stiles looked up at him and his big green eyes and— HONK! That was his car horn? Apparently, Scott remembered he had a spare key for the Jeep.

"Need a lift?" Stiles made a face. Scott ruined it. Whatever it was.

* * *

* * *

 

Dean watched them go. Once the Jeep had pulled out of sight he turned back to the angel. "Why does a werewolf hang around with a kid like that?"

Sam shrugged.

Castiel however, "His wolf instincts have declared the kid a suitable lead female of the pack."

Dean frowned. "He wants the kid to play house with him and a bunch of furry-freaks?"

"He needs to complete the alpha pair. I am not sure what he is waiting for."

Sam snorted. "Wow, probably waiting 'til the kid’s legal, Cas."

The angel frowned. Dean rubbed his eyes. "I don't want to think about this. Let's stop talking about it and just… move on."

Sam looked between them and shrugged. "I'm going to do laundry before we hit the road. I'll probably be gone for a few hours. So... Yeah." Sam grabbed the duffle bag of dirty clothes and left. Dean stared at the closed door.

"Do you have any idea why he does that?" Castiel's eyes went wide and he shook his head. 

* * *

 

Derek was avoiding Stiles. How did Stiles know? Because he never saw the guy. Usually, Derek just showed up unannounced and harassed him at _least_ once a week. It had been a month. The rest of the pack called him paranoid, in a way that made it sound like they were trying to make him feel crazy. Okay— the paranoid thing was a valid point. Stiles knew better though, because Stiles had seen Derek once in town. He called out to him and Derek had kept going. The others said he probably just didn't hear Stiles— which NO Derek could practically hear his thoughts. He was ignoring Stiles

Stiles was finding it difficult to ambush Derek— not that it was surprising. "Scott?" he asked after lacrosse practice, ready to ask his friend how to best catch an Alpha by surprise.

"Derek's avoiding you because he wants you to have his wolf babies." Stiles froze because WHAT? NOT FUNNY. Scott looked up and caught the shock on his friend's face. "You didn't know?"

"You were serious?"

Scott frowned. "I honestly could not make something that crazy up."

"Yeah, you're a wee bit of an unimaginative fella. You lack vision. But back track with me, Scott. What?"

Scott shrugged. "You can practically smell it on him. I mentioned you the other day? Nearly tore my head off. He doesn't sleep or eat much. He's being a total teenage girl about the whole ordeal. Seriously, if he isn't passing you a note that says 'Do you like me? Yes or No? Circle one.' by weeks end, he may pine to death." Stiles gawked at him. "You really didn't know? Then again this is you we are talking about." Stiles didn't move. "Shit. I broke him." Scott rolled his eyes and pulled out his cellphone. He typed something, waved a hand in front of Stiles face and, when he didn't get a response, left.

Inside Stiles head every second of time he spent with Derek replayed and okay it wasn't just him. Derek had shown absolutely no sign of caring about him until last month when he'd been taken by an angel. But maybe that Derek made concessions for him. Maybe he protected him. Maybe he said Stiles was important... and cue Stiles hyperventilating.

Hyperventilating alone in the locker room after everyone had left practice did not make for the best obituary. He kept telling himself it wasn’t a big deal— that he needed to calm down. But after ten minutes of just sitting there breathing like a mad man, he really couldn’t level out. He hadn’t had a panic attack this bad in a while. Usually he just breathed it out but— sweet lord, he was going to die— yes, he was being dramatic. He heard his name called somewhere far away, and someone running.

And then there was Derek.

He grabbed Stiles face in both hands. “Stiles, look at me. Breathe. One at a time.” Oh, right. The next breath Stiles took he held for a second then let it out. Derek mimicked what Stiles needed to do, keeping Stiles eyes locked on his. Not that Stiles would look anywhere else because Derek? Where had he— oh, Scott that sneaky bastard. He knew Stiles wasn’t going anywhere after his little freezing act. When Stiles was breathing easy again, Derek let go and sat next to him.

“Thanks," Stiles said quietly.

"That happen a lot?" Derek asked.

"No—not recently anyway." Stiles managed to get his heart beat down to almost normal. Derek nodded, looking at his hands. "So... You're not avoiding me anymore?" Derek shook his head. "Are you going to tell me why then?”

Derek took a breath. "It's not easy."

"Yeah, well easy is boring anyway."

Derek laughed a little and he rubbed his hands together. "Packs aren't just run by the Alpha. They're run by the Alpha and his mate. Most mates know right away except sometimes when... they don't."

"It is except when it's not."

"Shut up. It's not like it's an exact science. It's an instinct—a feeling and it’s hard." Derek huffed. "And well... I guess mine decided you fit all the qualifications." Stiles focused on breathing. "I didn't want to tell you, because you’re young and human and you love the pack in a weird sort of way and would take one for the team and not really want it and—" Derek was rambling. Derek doesn't ramble. Derek was afraid. He was afraid Stiles would say no.

Stiles thought about it—for like a whole second. "Okay."

Derek had been saying something about Stiles dad shooting him when he stopped. "What?"

"I said okay. I think... I think that's just fine." Derek blinked. Was it really so shocking? Why was everyone so skeptical that he could like guys? Sure girls were nice but this was DEREK HALE.

Who passed up Derek Hale?

Sure Derek had his issues but so did he and those hadn't scared Derek off. Maybe it all could be easy just this once. "But you should know I'm needy, high maintenance, and insecure—big time."

Derek still looked confused. Stiles rolled his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Derek's. Derek's stubble scratched his lips and Stiles was use to lip gloss or perfume but he didn't miss it. Those things were so distracting. This kiss was all Derek. Earthy and sweet, and Stiles wanted more of that. There would be time for that later though. Stiles pulled back. He grinned at the shocked look on Derek's face. It melted into something so soft and gentle that Stiles couldn't believe it was Derek.

Stiles bounced. “You _like_ me.” Derek rolled his eyes but the look remained, fresh and open and how did Stiles miss that Derek had been holding it back all this time.

“Yeah. I do.” It’s reluctant but in an embarrassed sort of way.

“There isn’t some weird werewolf courtship ritual or anything that I need to know about.” Derek shook his head. “Okay. Good.” Stiles eyes went wide. “This means we can have sex right?” And Derek laughed—a real wholehearted laugh that made him throw back his head. Derek needed to laugh like that more often. Officially.

When Stiles showed up with Derek, the tension visibly bled out of the pack. Their grateful, happy faces screamed ‘THANK GOODNESS YOU’RE BACK! DADDY WAS SO SAD WHILE YOU WERE GONE AND HE MADE OUR LIVES HELL. NEVER LEAVE US.’ Stiles was all giddy from their lovey-dovey high, so he didn’t even mind the fact he was pack-mom—honestly though he had been the worst pack-mom. Actually taking care of the pack might be better if he was helped by a people person—maybe Scott? Stiles could learn. Derek wrapped a possessive arm around Stiles shoulders and kissed the top of his head. All was well.

The End.

* * *

 

Sort of.  
  
They don’t have sex right away and it’s not because Stiles doesn’t want to but more because Derek is a planner and he wants it to be perfect—that is of course what Stiles assumes. Stiles is pretty much always asking for it. Stiles touches him all the time. Hand, shoulder, face, chest. Stiles wants to, really wants to, but Derek is always holding back. It doesn’t go farther than heavy petting and making out— lots of hickies. It just eggs Stiles on, just makes him more persistent, but nothing changes.  
  
After a few weeks of it, Stiles worries.

The doubt starts and Stiles keeps trying and after a few blatant nos he just… Stops. He stops trying so hard to touch Derek. Because maybe Derek doesn’t actually WANT him like that. Maybe he doesn’t want a mating-mate. Maybe Stiles is pushing too hard. He doesn’t avoid Derek. He just keeps a little bit of distance- just a couple extra inches between them. Because Derek still likes him— Stiles knows that. But Stiles is a worrier, not a warrior. So he worries. He remembers what Derek said about it being an instinct. That really implies he doesn’t have much of a choice. Maybe Derek just feels stuck with him despite the fact he says he likes Stiles.

The whole distance thing lasts about a day and a half. Stiles is at home alone— father on the night shift—

And suddenly DEREK.

He’s there and obviously frustrated about something, so Stiles goes straight into alpha partner mode with the usual soothing words but none of the touching and he’s suddenly pinned to a wall.

“What game are you playing at, Stilinski?”

“What game? What the hell—seriously?”

“Mind games really aren’t a good thing to play with a werewolf.”

Then Stiles notices that Derek’s hands will just not stop moving on Stiles. They travel down his arms and chest, and up his neck. He moves them without purpose, like he just needs to keep touching Stiles at all costs. The angry look on Derek’s face seems to imply he isn’t even paying attention to what his hands are doing.

Okay? Stiles mumbles, “I just thought… never mind.” But Derek presses closer like Stiles is guilty of something borderline terrible and needs to confess right now. “I thought you didn’t— you’re always. You just—” Derek’s eyebrows shoot up because apparently he understood that.

Derek’s face goes completely blank for about two seconds. “I was trying to be a gentleman.”  
  
Then Derek is on him. He claims Stiles mouth with his and leads him over to the bed. There’s something wild and immediate at first— like Derek needs to be skin to skin with Stile yesterday. Once they’re naked and Derek has probably permanently marked Stiles neck, Derek pulls back, looking down at him the wild look is replaced with complete adoration. “I love you.” And Stiles can’t say anything to that because he can just tell that Derek means it.  
  
Well, okay, one thing does actually come out of his mouth. “I love you too.” And Stiles is crying because he doesn’t think he deserves it. He’s the screwed up kid who blames himself for his mother’s death and his father’s slow spiral into depression and he doesn’t think he deserves anything good in this world. Derek’s kissing him again and this time it’s slow and lasting. The urgency is gone and Derek takes his time, like he’s cataloging every inch of skin and Stiles can’t do much but go along for the ride. Stiles figures he can actively participate later. For now, Derek’s teeth are grazing some sensitive skin over his hip bone and all is well in the universe.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Are Those Wings?!??](https://archiveofourown.org/works/930106) by [Furrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furrina/pseuds/Furrina)




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